


And These Fingertips will Never run Through your Skin

by Crying_ram



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - The Little Mermaid Fusion, Angst, F/M, Little Mermaid Elements, M/M, Mermen, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Unhappy Ending, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 17:32:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17833010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crying_ram/pseuds/Crying_ram
Summary: "He had never longed to be human quite as much as he did in this moment. Yes, he missed the rest of the world; he missed the sound of bird songs, children laughing, and the green of leaves in spring, but he longed to know the pretty human with the bright eyes. The ocean suddenly felt more lonely than it ever had before, even with his dearest friends, his family, beside him. "-The Little Mermaid AU, as written by Hans Christian Andersen





	And These Fingertips will Never run Through your Skin

**Author's Note:**

> This took me  
> Too long to write and its a mess  
> Hope yall enjoy it anyways  
> Title is from Love, Love, Love by of monsters and men

The water was cold when he was forced down into it.  
A captive on a ship, he knew that he was supposed to be careful.  
Father had always warned him of what they would do to him if he was caught, the ways they would bind his hands and feet together, laugh as they threw him overboard.  
John even recalls the afternoons they spent in his cabin, his father smiling like a wolf, chuckling as he patted his son on the shoulder.  
"It's best to behave nicely, Jack. Surrender, you know you're by no means capable of fighting."  
  
But John had never been one to go quietly, to settle down inside his body;he had an unusual talent for getting himself into trouble, the fire within him too large to be contained by his mortal vessel.  
  
They struck at night. John woke to the sounds of screams, to the bunks around him quickly emptying, and he had barely any mind to grab the closest thing he could use as a weapon before running to the main deck. The ship was collapsing beneath his feet, sinking, sinking, and John's mind raced, working overtime to figure out how this had happened. Their crew was strong, but they were also cautious, always ready for an attack.  
How had things come to this so quickly?  
He watched as his crewmates were slaughtered, watched as the ones that surrendered were bound and gagged.  
Watched as his father was killed before his eyes, watched his throat get cut so easily, as though it were nothing but a silk ribbon. A clean cut.  
  
So, John surrendered initially. Maybe it was his own shock, maybe it was the appearance of the other pirates, all much larger than he was. His gun slipped from his hand, though it had barely even gotten the chance to kill a single man. The fight was, quite literally, kicked from him, and John let himself float from his body. He was not here, not present, even as they told him to walk, even as they dragged him to their ship, put him to work.  
  
Five days. He was quieted for five days. Five days treated like a prisoner, put to do hard work, watching the remaining members of his crew that surrendered do the same. Why had they gone so softly? Why had they simply accepted this new life for themselves without properly defending their ship first?  
  
Why had John accepted this? Why had he simply let his father die?  
  
Something shifted, and his chest burned, as if the very confines of his ribcage had been torched, and now his whole body was going down with it. Like a star caving in on itself just to become something new. He fought, as hard as he could, for as long as he could, felt his fists collide with flesh, felt blood in his palms and in his eyes and in his mouth. Felt powerful.  
  
His father was only partially right.  
They did tie him up, did laugh, did force him, crawling, onto a high plank.  
But John was nothing if not stubborn. He held his head high, eyes narrowed, as if daring them to push him over. Maybe it was possible for him to make it out of this, maybe it wasn't. Either way, John was going to rebel in the last ways he could, in his last moments. He would not go down so easily this time.  
They were ruthless. His father had not told him of the pain of blades in his skin. Yes, John had felt it before, but this was something else entirely.  
This was John's body, being carved up, laughter as he choked on his own blood, as his eyes widened at the feeling of being gutted. He should've known, should've known he was not strong enough to fight on his own, but if this was the price he had to pay for his pride, he didn't mind at all.  
  
His father didn't tell him about what the feeling of drowning would be like. Hands and feet tied together, tongue cut out and body cut open, there was nowhere to go but down. The cold was biting, water turning red around him, and then black. He should've been afraid.  
  
So why wasn't he?  
  
For as long as he could remember, the open sea was his home. His father had raised him on the water, and over time it had become a friend to him. John gave the sea his secrets, and the sea had kept them.  
  
Why should he be afraid?  
  
His mind became clear, went blank as he opened his eyes to the darkness around him. The water was not suffocating him. It was welcoming him, cleaning him, making him brand new. The sea had claimed him, and John felt his lungs open up, breathed in deeply without opening his mouth. The ropes that bound him fell away easily, and how had John not realized his legs were changing? How had he not felt his bones shifting, his skin giving way to rough scales?  
  
His legs were no longer legs, were instead a long, smooth tail, ending in fins that fluttered in the current. There was no more pain, no more hurt, just John and this new body he found himself in. He was free, had somehow survived, had fallen in love with the water and received love back. How could he not be thankful?  
  
Years passed in this new life of his. A hundred years of swimming among the sea creatures, darting in and out of reef beds, minnows dancing along his skin. The sun was different here, was broken up into little fragments that leapt across the ocean floor, bathing the sand in golden light. John often liked to travel to where the water was shallowest, run his fingertips along the smooth shells of crabs as they went about their daily lives. Beneath the water was beautiful.  
  
His favorite part, though, the part he liked best, were the new friends he had made under the tides. Initially, John thought himself to be alone, to be the only one of his kind. As he was with most things, he was entirely wrong. He had constructed an entire new family when he met them, bonds running so deep that John couldn't help but wonder how he had lived an entire life without them.  
  
Hercules and Lafayette were strong in their own ways, had died in ways similar to John. What else was to be expected from a younger merman? They were all rambunctious, somewhat loud and outspoken, and John had never felt more like he belonged. In his previous life, the only company John truly kept in his heart was the open water, perhaps his father. Things were different now, though, a little more surreal, a little more peaceful.  
  
Yet John still found himself missing something. Many hours were spent breaching the ocean's surface, looking out at the land around him; houses as far as his eye could see, people laughing and rushing to get to where they needed to be. The sun was much brighter here, warmed his skin, kissed his freckles darker. Maybe a small part of him still belonged to the land, to the boy who wanted to change the world in some way, to go wherever his heart lead him.  
  
Even now, he swam to the surface, told Hercules and Lafayette not to worry; he wasn't dwelling, he just wanted a peek.  
He poked his head out from the water, dark hair floating around him in a cloud, riding the waves when he found no one around him.  
  
There was a boat nearby, one much like the one John used to frequent in his prime, and his curiosity got the better of him. He simply had to look, to see if the men on board were anything like his crew had been. He let the waves carry him up and down again, allowing him just enough time to see while remaining hidden.  
  
They were celebrating, John decided upon inspection, gathered around in a small circle, all laughing and joking loudly. A birthday celebration, perhaps? It had been so long since such a thing had occurred to John, he could barely remember how old his soul now was. Of course, Hercules and Lafayette were always there to celebrate anything with, but none of them were sure when their birthdays were anymore. It was hard to tell time after a while, days came and went with the tide. To be fair, John was unsure if he could consider his birthday his birth anymore, for hadn't he been reborn?  
  
John swam closer to the boat, trying to see which human's birthday was being celebrated. The waves splashed him in the face just so, but he was able to see over the edge of the boat. A young man, perhaps a pirate, with hair that crept down to his shoulders, deep, intelligent eyes and a blinding smile stood in the middle of all the others; John's heart seized in his chest, suddenly longing to become even closer. Who was this young man? What was he doing on the ocean, when he would obviously be able to do whatever his heart desired on land? What were his heart's desires, anyways?  
  
Before John could question any of this further, the sky began to darken, gray clouds coming to fill the once clear and cheerful sky. John let the water swallow him again, watched as the boat made its way to the shoreline. He knew all about how dangerous it was to sail during a storm, and he yearned for the boat to reach safety, for that lovely man to be sheltered.  
  
The rain hit heavily and all at once. The water was awake, swirling and breathing as the drops hit its surface. John pushed away the hair that became matted to his face, watched with wide eyes as the boat was unable to handle the tumultuous waves. It steered sharply, crashed into a jagged rock, and in an instant, was tumbling down to the ocean floor. John let out a brief cry, before diving under, eyes searching for the young man from before.  
  
He quickly spotted him, darting to him as the weight of the water dragged him further and further down. The wreckage of the ship fell around John, threatening to crush him and turn him to dust, but his mind was whirring; he was focused solely on saving this human, this one beautiful being.  
  
His arms wrapped tightly around the man's waist, and he struggled for a moment or two. His eyes had already fluttered shut, and John was unable to quell the rising panic in his chest. With all the strength he could muster, John hauled him above water, pulling him up onto the sands of the shore.  
  
The man lay still, color drained from his pretty features, and John despaired, stroking his wet hair and leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead. John bit his lip,  pressed down on the man's chest, tried to force the water in his lungs up and out. Dark lashes fluttered against cheeks that were too pale, and John rushed to roll the man onto his side. He coughed up water, body heaving as he did so, and John sighed in relief. At least he was alive.  
  
John hid himself behind a nearby rock, knew he couldn't allow himself to be seen. The man continued to retch up water, groaning in pain, but alive. Overall, well.  
  
"Hello? Are you alright?" A woman called from a distance, and John perked up, looked back to the water with furrowed brows. He had to leave, otherwise he would never be able to. He did not belong here.  
He watched for a moment more as the young man was helped into a sitting position by a girl with a sweet smile, eyes with an amount of kindness John had never seen before. The young man was lifted to his feet, lead away with the young girl, and John allowed his heart to ache as he slipped back into the ocean with sorrow.  
  
He had never longed to be human quite as much as he did in this moment. Yes, he missed the rest of the world; he missed the sound of bird songs, children laughing, and the green of leaves in spring, but he longed to know the pretty human with the bright eyes. The ocean suddenly felt more lonely than it ever had before, even with his dearest friends, his family, beside him.  
  
"What troubles you, sunshine?" Lafayette would ask him, wrapping him up in his arms and kissing his temple, but John would be unsure of what to answer with. Hercules would shoot him concerned looks, invite him to come to the surface with him so they could talk, but John would always decline. How was he supposed to put into words what was ailing him? That half of his heart was worlds away, somewhere he could never reach?  
  
He knew there had to be some other way, some way to gain back what he had lost all those years ago. John would trade this life and all the next if it simply meant he could speak to that human, get to hear his voice and wake up to that smile.  
  
There were legends, talk among the merpeople, of a witch who lived in the depths. They said he'd do anything, so long as he was given something equal back; an eye for an eye, as they would call it.  
  
There had been a few things he had been taught when he was first reborn and Lafayette and Hercules came into his life; simple lessons, such as the lifespan of a mermaid(three hundred years, give or take) how to properly swim with his tail(it was like learning to walk) and how to let go of the life he had left behind(John was still working on it) but there was one lesson they had emphasized- No matter what he heard about the witch and their abilities, he was to never go seek them out.  
  
"There's no reason to look for them, really. It's just asking for trouble,"Hercules had explained, voice soft and soothing, though John didn't miss the fear that shone in his eyes. There were some things you just didn't question, John was aware. If he was told to stay away, he would, he had no reason to go looking for the witch in the first place.  
  
Until now, that is. And suddenly staying away seemed much more difficult. An eye for an eye, what could he possibly give in return for the chance to be human? What could he give up that hadn't already been taken from him? John had to admit, the thought of losing anything else was frightening for a moment, but then his heart was set. This was just a small thing he was willing to do for someone he cared deeply about, surely there was no harm in that.  
  
The depths of the ocean were much darker and much colder than he had anticipated, though. What lurked just beyond in the inky water? John could be readily eaten, would be reduced to nothing but a mere couple of bones in seconds. Any hungry sea creature could devour him whole.  
  
Maybe John wouldn't mind. He had already died before.  
  
As he swam deeper and deeper, he saw a small light in the distance. The weight was crushing here, and the sandy floor was littered with an array of interesting fish, as well as the bones of humans who dove too far down. John couldn't say he didn't feel sorry for them. He wondered if his old body was somewhere on the ocean floor, being nibbled at by hungry little mouths, decaying into nothing with the tides.  
  
It was a cave, far tidier than John had anticipated, but it was still made eery by the eels that slithered along the walls. It was a winding, dimly lit cave, and John swam as quickly as he could, narrowly avoiding the eels that reached out for him, eyes far too big and far too invasive. They almost appeared to be smiling when he finally got through, out of breath and shaking just so.  
  
The room at the end of the swim was not very large. There was another merman here, working over a cauldron, his back turned to John as he hummed to himself, slow and haunting. John moved a little closer, trying to think of something to say, trying to not be intimidated by the cauldron that was glowing green.  
  
"You need not say anything, little minnow. I know exactly why you're here," the other merman said before John could even open his mouth, voice cold and slimy. John shivered, froze when the merman turned around, both eyes lacking any sign of pupils or irises; instead, in their place, nothing but dull, milky white.  
  
"How would you know?"John asked. He wanted to appear brave, in control, though he couldn't stop his voice from quavering.  
  
"I see all with these eyes of mine, sweetest... And these eyes see what your heart needs, John."  
  
"Really... What might that be?"  
  
"Your heart has been stolen from you,"he cooed, giving a sickly sweet smile. "By one Alexander Hamilton. A human man. You're here to make a deal, are you not? You can't fool me, dearest, I know you can't live without him."  
The merman tsked, sharp teeth glinting in the low light as he slowly approached, circling John like a shark. John watched him with wide eyes, trying to put as much space between himself and... Whoever this stranger, this witch was.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"I'm surprised that wasn't your first question. Didn't momma ever tell you not to talk to strangers? Or is it that she never got the chance to before she died?"he teased, eyes shining with cruel humor as he let out a laugh. "No matter. I usually don't speak my name, but for you... Anything, so long as I get something back."  
  
"Burr. Aaron Burr,"he breathed, like a puff of smoke, and John wasn't sure if it sounded like being damned or being saved.  
  
"Can you make me human again?"  
  
"Straight to the point, I see. I like that, pleasantries were never my speciality... I suppose I can,"Burr hummed, crossing his arms and tilting his head, as if he were in thought. "But for a price."  
  
"Name it."  
  
"Your voice. Maybe you're unaware, but you do have a lovely little voice on you. Don't worry, I won't keep it forever... Maybe."  
  
"And one more thing,"he whispered, voice sounding far away as he cut his own wrist, went back to the caudron to let his blood fall in. The liquid went from a sickly green to clear, as though it was made of nothing but stars.  
  
"If you can not make him love you  more than anything, more than the moon and the stars and the very words he produces, your glass heart will shatter. The morning after he is married to his true love, you will be gone with the sun's rays, nothing but sea foam on lonely waters."  
  
John shut his eyes tightly at this, tried to picture leaving behind all that he cared about in such a permanent way. How would Hercules and Lafayette react? How would they ever know?  
  
"How am I to make him fall in love with me without words?" John asked tentatively,  
  
"Fret not. You'll still have your pretty face, and you'll have gorgeous legs, I'll be sure of it. When you dance, or even simply walk, you will be so graceful that no one will be able to keep their eyes off of you. I must warn you, though; this will hurt. It will feel like your legs are being ripped to shreds, every inch of skin stabbed repeatedly by knives.”

“And what? Will I be doomed to be mute for the rest of my life if he is to fall in love?”

Burr laughed, and it was surprisingly warm, took John by surprise in the way his eyes crinkled with fondness.

“How about this; if you are to make him fall in love with you, I will give you back your voice. How does that sound?” He suggested, and John nodded enthusiastically, feeling a tad more sure of himself.

“Are you sure you want to go through with this? Once you take it, it's final,”Burr stated as he put the potion into a vial, swirling it around for him to see the sparkles. John watched in fascination the way it caught what minimal light there was, but his heart felt heavy once more; at the thought of giving up everything he had come to know and love.

He had died. He had died, and the ocean saved him, had loved him when none else did. Because of the ocean, he got to live. Because of the ocean, he was no longer alone. Was he really willing to let go all he had worked for, give up a lifespan of some hundred years for a single human?

‘Yes, of course,’ he told himself.

‘Isn't this what love is?’

“I'm positive,” he said finally, much to Burr's delight. His sharp, sharp teeth shone as he grinned, placed the vial gently into John's hands and kissed the top of his head. His lips felt cold.

“Very well, little mermaid. Go to the shore, and drink this, but heed my warnings. Don't take everything I've told you lightly. If you must, perhaps say goodbye to your loved ones before you leave. You won't know if it'll be the last time,” he uttered. John wondered if he was imagining the solemn tone in his voice.

Burr bent slightly, kissing John's throat lightly, and when John opened his mouth again, no words came out. He screamed, but there wasn't so much as a sound.

“The deed is done, little mermaid. I truly do hope I see you again,”Burr whispered turning away from John then.

“Leave now. I'm sure you want to say your farewells as soon as you can, or at least show them.”

What a strange merperson Burr seemed to be. John wondered if it ever got lonely, being in the deepest parts of the ocean by himself. What a shame. If things had been different, John would have loved to be his friend.

Before he could think about it properly, John surged forward, arms wrapping around the peculiar male. Trying to show all his thanks without words, trying to say that he hoped they'd see eachother again somehow. Burr still stayed turned away from him, stiff and unmoving, but John knew the soft sniffling he heard was not a part of his imagination.

“I pray to whatever God there is that you are loved,”Burr breathed, trembling beneath John's arms. John smiled brightly, gave him a tight squeeze before letting him go. The legends had been wrong about him. What a terrible thing to do to a being so kind.

With that, he was darting out of the cave again, small bottle of promises held tightly in his grasp. He hardly even noticed the eels as he passed them, or the sharks with their dead eyes. John was focused solely on getting to the surface, on drinking whatever was in the bottle and becoming human again.

Guilt filled him at the thought of not telling his friends of his departure, but he figured this was for the best. What could he say? Quite literally, nothing. Even if he could speak, he knew he couldn't bare to see the sadness in their eyes, for them to hold him just moments before him leaving. If that were to happen, perhaps he'd never leave, and life was waiting for him on land. Besides, surely Lafayette and Hercules knew of how deep his fondness for them ran. There had been no better individuals to spend the years of his rebirth with. If it was John's choice, he would've brought them with him.

But one couldn't have everything, and John knew they were much happier here than they had been in life.

It was just turning light when John broke the surface, pulling himself to the sandy bank. The sky was alive with various shades of gold, orange, and pink, the birds already singing. John imagined they sang about life, about how beautiful it was to exist. The water looked like a mirror, reflecting the sky above it, and he wondered if this was what humans saw when they went to heaven.

He shook himself out of his thoughts, looking again at the vial he held. This would change him, but maybe he was making a mistake? He had given up his voice, was giving up his life for a pirate. John didn't know if there was even a chance he'd be loved so strongly in return.

But if there was a chance, John was taking it. Without a moment's more hesitation, he opened the little bottle, letting the contents spill past his lips, down his throat and into his body. At first, he felt nothing, and then great pain that bloomed in his tail. Perhaps it was a good thing that his voice had been taken, for otherwise he would have been screaming with the pure agony of it. He was being torn, changed, and he looked away from his tail, not wanting to see what would surely be bloody carnage.

But the initial pain soon stopped, and John cracked open his eyes, curiosity getting the best of him. Instead of his long, blue tail, shimmering with a rainbow of colors in the early morning sun, there was instead a pair of legs, lovely in every aspect. John stretched them out, then bent them again, mouth wide open in awe. What a strange sensation.

Getting to his feet hurt more than anything he ever experienced. Burr was right in describing the feeling as walking on knives, for John already felt as though his legs were being pierced hard enough to break. He attempted to take a step, but fell almost immediately, landing in an ungraceful heap.

“Dear lord, are you well?”someone called to him from a distance away, and John was surprised to find the source of the voice to be the man from before. Alexander, Burr had called him, and he was even more beautiful up close. John felt as though he might be blinded.

Alexander knelt before him, taking hold of his hands and pulling him to his feet. John blushed, quickly moving to cover his naked lower half with his long hair. Perhaps he'd cut his hair later, but for now, he was glad for its length.

“Who might you be?”Alexander asked, his eyes sparkling with innocent wonder, and John had to avert his gaze, cheeks tinged pink.

He opened his mouth, but no words came out, and he looked back to Alex, brows furrowed in sorrow. Alex seemed to understand then, partially, at least, and he helped John to steady himself when he stumbled.

“It's okay, I'm sure you can write it for me later. Is there any chance you're a pirate as well? I was washed up here not too long ago, and I've happened to be here ever since,”he rambled, gesturing with one hand, the other holding John's hand to keep him upright. Others might've thought him to speak too loud and too fast, but his voice was like music to John's ears, and he wanted nothing more than to continue to hear him.

“Are you hurt anywhere? Do you have any place to go? No matter, you can stay with me. I live with two sisters in the town, and they're both very lovely people. I'm sure you will like them.” Alexander insisted, voice rising and falling with a cadence that John had never heard before. It drew him in, like a moth to flame, and John could only stare at him with wide, helpless eyes. He'd do anything Alexander asked of him, for that voice with its warmth captured him instantly and held fast to his heart.

“I'm almost positive you'll love the sisters. One of them is currently away in some far off village, she's a teacher, apparently, but Angelica and Peggy are two of the sweetest people I've ever known. They took me in after their sister saved me.”

John nodded along as he spoke and they walked, trying to push down the warmth in his chest. Alexander talked about everything under the sun, from his life as a pirate to poetry, until they reached something like a palace made of marble. The sun made the house glitter white, made the tidily kept bushes in front glow a brilliant shade of emerald green. Marble pillars reached towards the sky, covered in swirling patterns and soft green vines. John gaped at the house, and Alexander chuckled lightly by his side, eyes shining.

“Unbelievable, isn't it? Trust me, not nearly as unbelievable as the sisters are,” he assured, voice soft with clear fondness.

As if on cue, two young women ran from the house, matching bright smiles on their faces. One was dressed in a sunny yellow, the other in a dusty rose, both equally beautiful.

“Alexander, you're back!”exclaimed the one in pink, though she stopped short when she spotted John. “Who might this be?”

“I'm.. Not entirely sure. He doesn't speak, and I found him on the beach,”Alexander replied easily, either unaware of or ignoring the suspicious look the girl shot his way. “What I do know is he hasn't given me any trouble. He seems nothing but kind and honest, and I think we should take him in as well.”

John looked between the two of them, watched as they seemed to communicate without words. Finally, the young woman sighed, tucking an errant curl behind her ear and giving John a pleasant smile.

“I'm Angelica Schuyler, the girl behind me is my sister, Margarita Schuyler. Pleased to meet you.”

“I insist you call me Peggy!” The younger girl chimed in, giving a wide and friendly smile. “Though, I suppose you can't really call me anything, can you-?”

Angelica elbowed her sister with a hiss of ‘be polite,’ and John couldn't help the grin that broke out onto his face. His mouth fell open in a silent laugh, a sight that seemed to make the sisters smile more broadly.

“You're welcome to stay in our home for as long as you want, we're glad to have you,”Angelica said more sweetly, and Alex laughed a little beside him, clearly pleased with himself. He took John's arm and they all went into the house, ready to settle John in and get him some clothes.

Living with them became a normal occurrence after a while. The sisters were kind and accepting, Alexander was as passionate as ever, and they would often stay up late in the night, simply talking and dancing simply for the fun of it.

Neither of the sisters were quite as graceful in their movements as John was, and they complimented him on how light his steps were, unaware that it felt like being pierced each time his feet touched the ground. John danced regardless, though, enjoyed the way Alexander's eyes became glued to him, as if he couldn't possibly look away. The pain was a small price to pay if it meant Alexander would keep looking at him like that.

Though of course, this did not make the pain of having left his other life hurt any less. Some nights he would go to cool his aching feet in the waves that used to house him, the moon the only witness to his sorrow. Some nights, he swore he was able to hear Lafayette and Hercules, singing songs of lament, calling John back home. Some nights, John had to stop himself from diving head first back into the ocean. There was a saying that what belonged to the sea always returned. John did not want to be proof of this saying, no matter how much he missed his family beneath those gentle and forgiving waves.

John and Alexander  grew closer with each day that passed. Alexander told him his deepest ailments, and John listened, comforting him when he saw fit. They trusted each other, and even without his voice, it was clear that John was just as fiery as Alexander was, a constant shine in his eye that refused to dim or back down. Alexander had told him that he found it charming, and John held the words close to his heart.

“I must admit, you are one of the people I hold dearest to my heart,”Alexander had admitted one night, the world dark and quiet around them. He held John's hand in his, tracing lightly over the freckles on his knuckles. The light cast shadows on half of his face, making him look otherworldly, like a gift straight from the God that John had believed in once upon a time. “I must confess, I love you, but there is someone who I hold a greater fondness for.”

“Elizabeth Schuyler, the second oldest sister. She was the one to save me from my watery grave, and for that, I can not love anyone more completely than I love her. You remind me a bit of her, if I'm honest.”

John felt his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach, envisioned the future that was now set to befall him; Alexander would get married, would be happy and laughing and dancing on his wedding day, and John would be happy for him, elated even.

And then John would throw himself to the waves and die.

If Alexander only knew the truth that John had saved him, if John could only tell him, maybe then he'd be saved. Maybe it didn't matter anyways.

“Alas, Eliza has devoted herself to the lord, and we are unsure if she will ever be back. If she never is to return, I wish to spend the remainder of my life with you, for you are the one I love most,”Alexander finished, pushing a curl away from John's eyes. John smiled tentatively, a nervous flush coming to his cheeks. There was still a dull ache lingering in his heart, but there was some sort of hope, some chance that Eliza would never return, that he and Alexander could live out the rest of their lives happy together.

But no such thing was to happen. Within a month, Elizabeth was back, having returned home to spread her faith by educating those who weren't fortunate enough to be educated. The moment she laid eyes on Alexander, her whole face lit up, and John didn't even have to look at Alexander to know that warmth was returned tenfold. He had exclaimed words of praise, of love and devotion, and John would be lying if he said that his heart wasn't being torn from his breast.

“The one I love above all else has returned to me, I'm almost too ecstatic to believe it!”Alexander had laughed excitedly to John, the day before his wedding was set. He looked as though he was bursting at the seams with his joy, like he was glowing from the inside as they walked in the garden.

“Surely, you are the happiest for me. I am happier than I've ever been, and surely my happiness is what matters most to you, for you are the one who loves me the most.”

John would be lying if he disagreed with Alexander's words. He gave a smile that he hoped was sweet and convincing, danced with Alexander when he couldn't possibly contain his contentment anymore.

Felt his heart break open just a touch more. If he could cry, perhaps he would have in that moment.

Eliza Schuyler was a wonderful, kind woman, dark eyes dancing with trust and honesty. Her laugh was like a gentle song, like leaves swirling in the wind. She had told John that it was lovely to meet him, wrapped him up in a gentle hug full of genuine love, and John could easily tell that that love expanded for all living beings, that she respected everyone as if they were her own kin. John could not possibly hate her.

The wedding was a quiet affair held on a boat owned by Eliza's father, and John kept a bright smile pasted on his face the entire time. Alexander looked at his bride as if she was the sky, as if she had brought his entire existence into focus. Eliza looked at him with equal amounts of adoration, as though he completed her. John wondered if they were perhaps soulmates, two halves of one whole. John wondered if he had ever stood a chance to begin with.

He supposed it was foolish to believe that he ever did. Alexander could never love him in the same way.

John could not sleep when night fell.

The moon was full, bright and steady, kissed by the dozens of stars around it. There was something somber about the ocean, gentle waves lapping at the side of the boat, as if trying to reach John, trying to comfort him before his time of death. John looked deep into the water, saw his own sad reflection, tried to breathe away the lump in his throat. Longed for home, longed for the ocean wrapped around his body, comforting him as it had before, swallowing the pain from his body, stealing it straight from his bones.

Lost in thought, he did not notice when the water stirred a little, and before John could react, Lafayette and Hercules emerged from the tide, lips curved down in sorrowful frowns. They reached their arms out to him, eyes deep pits of sadness.

“John, sweet little sun spot, the sea witch has told us of your deal. We know of your fate, of what will happen when the sun comes up, but we've made a compromise,”Lafayette muttered frantically, voice quavering as he held a dagger up to John. The knife was sharp and curving, and the moonlight made it glow in a way that was hauntingly beautiful. John suddenly realized that their once long hair had been cut off completely, and the remains now stuck up in awkward angles.

“We traded it all so that you may live past tomorrow,”Lafayette said simply at John's questioning look. John's mouth fell open in surprise and guilt, his blood going cold at the thought that they had given up what had made them so beautiful in order to bring John back to where he belonged. His brow furrowed as Lafayette held the dagger up more incessantly.

“Take this. Stab the one who has stolen your heart, and when his heated blood falls on your feet, they will turn once again into a tail. We will be able to be together again, as we should be, as we should always be. Hercules and I will be complete again once you are safely in our arms. Even the sea witch is hoping for your safe return.

“Please, it's the only way,”Lafayette pleaded, and John could not resist the pained look in his eyes. He had put that pain there, and wasn't it his job to fix it?

He tentatively took the blade, creeping his way into the room where Alexander and Eliza slept. He gripped the knife tightly, let the moonlight spill into the room so he could see, and went to Alexander's bed side, biting nervously at his lip.

Eliza had her head resting on his chest, hair fanned out in a dark halo, and John's heart broke at the content smile on her face. Alexander's arms were wrapped tightly around her, as if protecting her even in his sleep, for nothing else mattered but her safety. There was no one else in his heart, and how could John ever compare to a woman who had a heart of sunshine? How could John ever dare to take that happiness away from them? They were each other's home, and to kill Alexander would be to kill Eliza as well. Such a lovely woman did not deserve such pain.

Killing Alexander would be to kill himself, as well, for John still loved him with his whole heart, despite all else.

He took in a shaky breath, looked down at the unforgiving knife that he held in his trembling hand. John suddenly knew all at once that he could not do it. He tossed the dagger away into the dark water, watched it bubble and turn red, as if the ocean was bleeding from his betrayal. He knelt to press a final kiss to Alexander's forehead, smoothing back his fine dark hair, then pressed a kiss to Eliza's as well. The sun was rising behind him, painting everything its lovely shades of gold, and John knew his life was over.

He walked to the railing, casting a final glance at the man he had given his whole heart to. He spotted Lafayette and Hercules, saw the fearful understanding that washed over their faces. He offered a sad, sweet smile, and with that, tossed himself into the water. He felt his body begin to dissolve, the life easily leaving him, but it did not feel like dying. It felt like being reborn once more, like becoming part of the ocean in a different way. He felt his heart sink into waves, felt the water could've been tears falling from his already disintegrating eyes, and knew he had made the right choice.

He had never been one to not put up a fight, but this was for the best. This particular fight had been over long before it had began, John realized, but that did not mean that his ending had to be sad. It was simply another new beginning, a story that John would never be able to tell.

His Alexander was happy and in love. The world would keep spinning, with the people he held closest in it.

What more could he want?

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to leave comments, they make me happy :)  
> Love yall!


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